Playing in the Shadows
by ADOVOXO
Summary: Darkness over clouded my vision. And there he was, him? I don't know who he was again, known formally to me as the 'faceless' man.
1. Chapter 1

**AN: Happy New Year. Bit delayed, I know. Sorry, I have an excuse though. And because my mother loves me very very much she bought me a new laptop for Christmas. So all my files are on my other one and I haven't been able to get them due to my lovely mother taking over my old laptop. I will eventually get back to writing the other stories. But at this moment in time my life is very hectic, due to stress for my exams and college and job applications. Please understand.**

**But I thought to make you guys like me a little more, you all might appreciate that I have decided to write a new story that I thought of. It's not your typical story. It might be a little dark and depressing in places but you'll all get over it.**

**So hopefully you all understand now, and read this story. Thank youuu.**

* * *

><p>You'd never know.<p>

You'd never know that on the inside it killed me. It killed me, rotted away at my very soul.

It sucked me in all the way, and I couldn't get out. Like a whirl pool of darkness, dragging me down, with no way up. No way out.

Like a never ending dream I couldn't wake up from.

The dream was dark and cloudy and it got thicker as I tried to wade along inside the fog. It felt like my feet were trying to stay situated where they were and wouldn't allow me the time to move. I looked on and all I could see was the faceless man. Again... Stood, waiting for time to move? For me to move? I assumed if he had a set of eyes, he'd be staring, right through me. Like I had translucent skin.

Like I wasn't there.

Like I've never been there at all.

* * *

><p>Just a little taster. I have the first OFFICIAL chapter already written. If you want it, all you have to do is review, like always, your beautiful words send little butterflies into my gut. And make me want to write more, which excites me to know people actually enjoy my writing. I know it's not much. But it'll get soooo much better. Hopefully my best one yet.<p>

**WeirdButMature x**


	2. Chapter 2

This is my fist chapter from my new story I hope you guys like it, it's mostly background and a little more in this. So please when you get to the bottom, review? Thank youuuuu!

**P.S I'd like to tell you this story is set wayyyyyy into the future. Just saying if you have any questions please inbox me about them. Thanks x**

* * *

><p><strong>Disclaimer: I do not own any of the Twilight characters, only my own and the ones you do not recognise.<strong>

* * *

><p>You know they say 'time heals old wounds'; I laugh at whoever made that quotation up. It's a pack of lies. It might scab over, but you're always eventually going to want to pick at it, and once you have; it's open again for the pain to take over. To feel the slight itch every time you knock it, every time someone touches it. But then once again it's then forgotten, scabs over and turns into a permanent scar to your memory, you always remember how you got it. So it's never completely gone from your mind.<p>

It's been a long time for me. Every time I sleep, I see the same man, with no face. Just standing there, never doing anything to harm me, just simply stood, watching  
>nothing. Whether he's looking at me or not, I wouldn't know. He doesn't have a face. I am scared of him; I always have been since I was a little girl. He's always been there. But like a wound, he was forgotten for a while, but then the wound re-opened again when my grandma became ill.<p>

She was beautiful my grandma, one of those timeless beauties you hear about. Her silver hair, her dark skin tone contrasted with my creamy white. She would always smell like lavender, her clothes, and her house. It was the best time of my childhood when I got to spend my time with her. But since I moved far away from my gran I started to have these dreams with the man present.

You see my father; he's a lawyer, my mother; a housewife from a town in Ireland called Shannon. We lived in Washington on a little reservation. I never remembered the name, and we didn't talk much about it. I moved from there when I was little, but the story of my mother and father goes that he was working on a big case in Ireland one summer and my mother she was just someone he met whilst out one night. She moved to Washington, got pregnant with me, my father proud of his heritage wanted to have me born on the reservation, so we did just that. For four years of my life, I lived there, and then close to my fifth birthday, my mother got told that her mother was deathly ill, and we moved to Ireland, where we officially stayed. We only visited the reservation when we could. I've only been four times.

When we first moved to Ireland I missed my gran dearly I cried for days, wanting to go back. But I couldn't I was thousands of miles away from her and I couldn't do anything about it. That's when I started to have the dreams. They scared me when I was little, terribly, my mother still thinking I was pining for my grandma, couldn't do anything about it. The dreams continued for about a year and a half non-stop, I was diagnosed with insomnia, and I took medication.

In the dream I couldn't move an inch, a darkness surrounded me and the through the thickness of the fog, a man. Him.

Then after a while they stopped.

All together, no bad dreams, I got on with life, made friends, my voice changing with the affects of living in a different continent. My irish self shining through. Then on my eighth birthday my mother surprised me with a visit to go and see grandma for a week. I was thrilled. Me and gran; we wrote as she told me that computers were overrated and you can get your emotion down better in a heartfelt letter. She told me how she was doing, that she bought a cat because her only son and moved thousands of miles away from her and that she didn't have anyone else. When we arrived there, my excitement was way too much.

But like most wounds, they re-open. When we returned the dreams did too. So started the four times I'd visited my gran the dreams came back. So after the fourth time when I was twelve I never returned, I didn't want them back.

Time passed I still got them now and again, and to this day I still do every so often. They've become a little clearer over the years. With the scenery around us beginning to pull together, the dark dense forest always surrounding my feet, the roots from the trees wrapped around my ankles, so I can't move. The darkness still hovering at eye level, then him in the distance, with no face still.

My seventeenth birthday passed, I had no card off gran, and she always sent cards. I didn't worry figuring it got lost in the post, but yesterday when my eighteenth rolled around, I didn't get a card from gran then either. My mother told me she had sent them, but they got lost. I didn't get too worked up considering my mother had arranged for me to go over with my father to see her. My mum couldn't attend as my cousin was getting married during that week. So I agreed with her and me and my father were going to see her in a couple of days.

And like clockwork the days leading up to the visit, my dreams returned full force. For three sleepless nights, but something was different: the man, he moved this time, he didn't stand there. He started to close the space between us, and when the edges of his angular face started to blur, assuming he was about to be revealed I awoke. This happened for three days.

The day arrived when we were going to visit my grandma.

My father in the driver seat "Mika are you okay?" His thick shallow American accent being shown and asked me slightly worried.

"just tired" I told him, it was true, I haven't had more than 7 hours sleep for three days. I expected to be like this, the worry was closing in on me. I couldn't take it, my breathing got heavier and shallower. I was scared. I didn't like change, and the dream changed. I didn't like it, my eyes started to water, knowing that the inevitable was going to happen that I was in fact going to have these dreams again.

"Mika! Calm down, what's the matter?" He slowed the car down and pulled into a layby on the side of the road. He started to rub my back and tried to pull me into his chest as best as he could over the car. He whispered soothing words into my ear, and I reduced my breathing to normal and my tears stopped. He pulled back and looked at me.

"These need to stop Mika, you're putting yourself through so much stress. Your dreams are just dreams they don't mean anything, just try and stay calm, we can't turn around. We need to see your grandma, she's..." He stopped and looked away onto the road. "She's very ill, so we wanted you to see her" There was an ending to that sentence, and I didn't want to hear it. I looked out the window and caught the final tears streaming down my cheeks.

"Just drive dad" I told him, no questions, the car started to move again, and we were on our way to the airport.

* * *

><p>The flight was as long as I remember, and as uncomfortable as ever. Thirteen hours on a flight, was never a good way to start a visit. But my mind reeling through what my dad told me, my gran was ill? Was that why she hasn't had time to write, or send birthday cards... Better yet, why didn't they just tell me she was ill?<p>

I get that I've alienated everyone away from my self space, I haven't had anyone around me since I was young. My friends gave up on me when I started high school, they thought I was strange because I didn't sleep as much as they did. They also thought I was 'sad' all the time, which in later terms meant I was depressed. I have been most of my life, my parents not knowing what to do with me, I used to be a happy child, but now, I'm just not... I had panic attacks, I couldn't sleep, I hardly ate. I didn't know where to place myself in society.

Society has it's ways of fucking you in the head. It gets right to you, and then breaks down all those little walls you spent years building up, then just tears them right down. It makes you feel inferior to everyone and thing. That you don't belong anywhere accept in your own mind. Which can also be very dangerous.

My mother and father tried everything, I had a great bringing up, I got the things I wanted thanks to my father's highly paid job, but I didn't think twice about material things anymore. I wanted to be me, I wanted to make myself, not something make me. Life had basically become a prison for me in my years. All because of these dreams, the dreams caused everything, the depression the insomnia, the alienation, the hurt, the confusion; everything. I just wish I knew what they meant.

We touched down in Seattle after I had my inner convention. My father knowing people in Seattle got hire-a-car and we set off towards the reservation to which I found out was named La Push.

The drive took all of a couple of hours, I mean thirteen hours on a plane then two hours of driving, who says my sleeping is fucked up because of these dreams. It's the time zones. That night I fell asleep with the smell of lavender all around me, all over the sheets and in the air. It was like I was a kid again. That night, there were no dreams; none at all.

The morning bought a light to my old room in my grans house, which I wasn't surprised to see, gloomy, matching my current mood. I slid out of bed and out of the room, and into the kitchen where, my timeless gran was sat perched on the stool. She turned to look at me and I had to stop myself from crying.

Her beautiful face drawn in, her eyes going white, her hair balding in the front now as white as snow; Her frailty made me want to put her back together again. Thiswas bad; I'd never seen her like this before. I didn't want to. She smiled a crooked smile the right side of her face never raising. My father pouring coffee into a mug, to which I told him to pour me some.

I walked slowly over to her, afraid she might crumble if I made too much movement. I leant into her and wrapped my arms around her small torso. She wrapped her small arms round my body and held me there, and whispered something light into my ear which I didn't understand.

"She says you're beautiful" My dad translated for me. I looked at her in the eyes and tried the best I could to copy exactly what she'd said to me. She looked at me and raised a hand to my cheek. Her skin not as dark as it had once been, now a ghostly murky russet colour and as cold as the frigid air outside. She stroked my cheek and said nothing. Tears escaped my eyes and I couldn't look into her eyes anymore, I looked away, her sensing me in distress let go and allowed me to sit down.

My dad placed a plate of food in front of me which I ate willingly, feeling a little happier now I've see my gran. We all sat down in silence and silently chewed away at the food given.

My dad cleared his throat "Mika, would you be able to get your grandmas medication, she ran out. The local pharmacist has them on prescription I'd like for you to pick them up. Please?" I nodded and looked at grandma, she just looked annoyed.

"Bray you know I don't like those pills" She said, her voice low, so low it was hard to hear. I laughed a little, because I remember her, when I was small; if we were ill she had a recipe book for soups and medicines; the book had been passed down for decades. But her illness had become beyond that of soups and homemade medication wasn't going to fix her like we wanted. My father sighed and nodded to me. Signalling that I was still supposed to go and get the medication. I put my plate away and made my way towards my small room in the back of the house. It was eleven in the morning and I assumed that the pharmacy was open this time. I changed into something appropriate for the weather, put my auburn hair into a messy bun on my head and shrugged a jacket onto my shoulders.

"Dad, the pharmacy, it's still in the same place?" I asked him just as I was heading out the door. He nodded and carried on helping gran up off the stool and into the living room to sit in her battered arm chair.

I looked on with sadness, as I can remember when my gran used to chase me around the living room, and now she was being helped to just walk a few meters. It made my eyes water, I diverted them and carried on with the task at hand.

I stepped out onto the old cricked porch which creaked every time someone moved, so moving off of it being quiet was a hard thing to do. My noisy footsteps echoed out into the forest and bounced off all the trees, where the birds flew out, disturbed by the sounds being made in their place of slumber.

I walked along the gravel road and came out onto a pathway which led all the way down to the store, with the pharmacy placed right next door.

I came upon the pharmacy which looked more like a old house made into a shop rather than a real pharmacy but I always thought it looked like my grans house so I admired it.

Just as I was walking up the steps and into the door, it flung open, I had to take a step back, the air knocked out of me for a second.

"Sorry!" I said, force of habit. A man stood there all six foot something of him, towering over me, I cowered back a little scared of what he might do. He looked at me strange, like the wheels were turning in his head. He cocked his head to the side, figuring something out, and like a light bulb switched on in his head, his eyes wide he took me in, like he'd just been looking through me not at me.

"You... Y-You're all grown up..." The stranger said. I didn't know what he meant by that but I just ignored his comment and walked into the store, just as I saw his arm shoot out and catch open air.

'I'm all grown up' what the hell was that suppose to mean? Maybe we knew each other when I lived here, but I'd know. I only had two friends for the whole time I lived here and I would recognise them in a split second. Whether they go to college now or what I don't know. I'm only here for a few days and I don't intend catching up with long lost friends, when my grandma is at home crumbling away gracefully.

I picked up the prescription from inside and then walked back outside, where the guy from before was sat on the steps. He looked up at me and jumped down.

"Sorry, for like scaring you. I didn't mean to, it's just you look awfully familiar? What's your name?" He asked nicely.

"I don't just share information with random people" I said then took off down the path again. It wasn't long until I reached the gravel road which led to my grandma's house. I looked behind me, and the guy from before was gone. He hadn't followed me which I hoped for.

I reached my grans quaint house and sighed. I missed this place so much. It feels different now though, a little more forced to be here, like it wasn't a present, that my mother and father had forced me to come, to say my goodbyes or something to her. I didn't want to do that, it wasn't her time yet, I knew it wasn't.

I trudged up the creaky steps and stepped through into the doorway. My gran was asleep on the arm chair my dad had left her in and I could hear my father turning the pages of the news paper in the kitchen. I walked through and saw him looking the oldest I'd ever seen him look.

He took his glasses off and set them beside him, and patted the chair next to him. I sat down and he looked straight at me.

"This is probably the last time you'll see your gran Meeks, she's getting worse. And so is her memory, she still thinks your granddad is out on a fishing trip and is going to be back soon. I wanted to tell you this, because I know how much you love her. There's something I need to tell you. She told me years ago, but you're old enough to understand now. Your grandma left her home to you, for when she passes. It's yours. Whether you want to keep it or sell it, it's up to you. But don't do anything too hasty." He told me and I couldn't quite comprehend what he was saying. My grandma had left her own home for her only granddaughter? My love for my gran just got wider, this was the place I grew up, the last place I remember seeing before I moved away. The last place where everything was normal, the last place I was happy. I don't want her to go, not in a million years. Never, I want her there always. She's my best friend. Always has been, always will be.

She'll never be forgotten.

I sighed, I didn't know how to reply to that kind of information out loud, what do you say?

"My old friend wants us to go round for tea tonight, he heard I was back after a long time and wanted me to come and have some food and drink, you want to come?" He asked me, I thought about grandma, but I mean she's been okay without me for at least an hour, right?

"Sure, I'll tag along" I told him he smiled and told me we were going round about six o'clock. I went back to my room and read a book, looked around my room at old pictures and old things which my gran had kept over the years, I took a long bath and soaked for a while, picked out something to wear, pulled my hair down, and by the time six o'clock rolled round I was just about ready.

My dad had made gran some food earlier and she was now situated in front of the television watching some old film that looked way beyond my time. I sat with her whilst I waited on my father to be ready, and when he was, I gave my gran a hug and a kiss and told her I loved her so much. It hurt to leave her, knowing she was so ill. But I did reluctantly and went with my father.

The drive only took around five minutes and then we pulled up in front of a house which was like my grandmas in the middle of the woods. With beautiful flowers along the windows and the door open for anyone to just waltz straight on in.

My dad walked up the steps with me behind him and knocked on the already open door. No-one was in the room, so he knocked a again slightly which caught the attention of a man, no bigger than the one I saw today at the pharmacy, maybe they knew each other, went to the same gym or something?

My dad and him did the whole man handshake thing then turned to me "Sam, this is my daughter Mika, she's a bit more grown up from the last time you saw her" He told him introducing me, assumingly again. I just gave him a tight smile and a nod of the head, my dad just sighed.

"Well it's nice to get reacquainted with you again Mika, you've grown up so much" He said, amazed.

I just gave a curt nod "Yeah, long time. Why does everyone keep telling me I've grown up?" Sam looked taken aback from me, probably because I sounded a lot different to your average joe around here. My dad looked at me strangely and Sam spoke first.

"why, who else has said to you?" He asked.

"Just some guy I bumped into at the pharmacy today, big guy, like you, you share a gym something?" I asked a bit sarcastically.

"Mika!" My father reprimanded. I cowered away from his tone of voice and diverted my eyes anywhere but his. I did something wrong and I didn't want to look him in the eyes. Sam noticed my strange behaviour and continued on talking.

"No, there are no gyms around here." He laughed "I do have a daughter the same age as you though, Kai! Get down here, we have guests." He said smiling our way, just as someone walked through the kitchen door, who I'm assuming to be Sam's wife the way she wrapped her arms around his torso. I looked to the stairs to see a teen girl, my age like Sam told me descending the stairs.

Long hair down to her waist, ram rod straight. Perfect cheek bones, the same colour skin as my fathers and her own fathers, dark eyes which were framed with long lashes, I was jealous, she had everything perfect, I was a half, everything half, I had half the skin tone as my father's with freckles, green eyes and auburn hair from my Irish heritage, I had the high cheek bones and almond shaped eyes though, all my dad's. She was listening to music on her phone with ear phones in and she unplugged one from her ear as she came to stop in front of me.

"Hey! My names Kai, I like long walks on the beach and to watch the Notebook whenever I can. No I'm kidding. What's your name?" She asked, very bubbly, she seems like the kind of girl I would have been friends with.

"Mika, and I don't like long walks on the beach and the Notebook is my favourite movie, so yeah..." I said, feeling stupid because that introduction sounded way better in my head than it did actually saying it. She just laughed and replied: " I like you" And then walked away into what I presume is the kitchen/ dining room area.

"Sorry about her, she can get a little too boisterous" Sam explained, my dad shrugged it off his shoulder and didn't pay any attention, I just stood there and followed everything he did, he went to the kitchen, I did too, he sat down I did too. I was nervous for some reason. The air didn't feel right. I didn't want to be here anymore. I broke up the conversation my dad was indulged in and told his i couldn't stay longer and walked straight out, not telling anyone goodbye.

Not like they'd miss me, I'm never missed. But something felt wrong, too wrong, My breathing became harsher as I neared the house, it wasn't far, probably about 5 minute walk, so I started to jog lightly, trying to get as much oxygen into my small lungs as possible, the run cut the time down by two minutes and I arrived at the end of the gravel way, I sprinted all the way up to the house, the porch creaking as my feet pounded on it.

I swung the door open, and stood shocked in the doorway. My feet couldn't move, my face couldn't form any expression, my knees felt weak, I couldn't stand anymore, the crumbled from beneath me. I fell to the floor, and then the tears started, they came heavy, and I wasn't even fully in the house yet. I just couldn't move my body any closer than it needed to be. Sobs racked through my body, it hurt my ribs. I felt myself leaving the hard wood floor and being cradled into someone's arms. They say down on the porch swing which my granddad had created for my grandma when they first bought the house. I was rocked back and forth by the stranger, I looked up and realised it was the same person from today, from the pharmacy. His face had shadows cast over them I couldn't see fully, tears clouded my vision, but I knew it was him, He said soothing things to me.

He must have called my father because I was passed on to another set of arms which felt like his. I sobbed and cried and sobbed some more, until it physically hurt me too much to cry anymore, we just sat there me and my dad on the porch crying together.

Because my best friend had died and I needed to grieve.

* * *

><p>This was the first official chapter. Please REVIEWWWWWWW! I'd really appreciate it, I love you all soooo much.<p>

**WierdButMature x**


End file.
